[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Jim Chee had ingested that fact with his mother's milk, and fromthe endless lessons his uncle taught him."All is order," Hosteen Nakai taughthim."Look for the pattern."Chee left half the coffee in the thermos and wrapped a towel around thebottle.That, with two more bologna sandwiches still in his sack, would servefor lunch.A covey of Gambel's quail, their long topknot feathers bobbing,paraded single file along the slope below the windmill, heading for the arroyoa hundred yards to the north.The quail would be after an early-morning drink.Far down the arroyo three cottonwoods stood-two alive and one a long-deadskeleton.They were the only such trees in miles and must mark a shallow watertable.Perhaps a spring.Without some source of water, the drought would forceall birds away from here.Chee found scuff marks on the earth, left by the vandal and by the Hopi whohad discovered the vandalism.They told him nothing useful.Then he examinedthe mill itself.This time the vandal had used some sort of lever to kink thelong connecting rod that tied the gear mechanism overhead to the pump cylinderin the well casing.It was an efficient means of destruction which left theforce of the turning blades and the pumping action to strip the gears.But thevandal was exhausting such opportunities.Now the footing bolts were securelybrazed into place, and the gearbox was secured.The custodians of the windmillcould easily prevent a repetition of this new outrage by using a two-inch pipeto provide a protective sleeve for the pump rod.Chee scrutinized the millthoughtfully, looking for weak points.He found nothing that could be damagedwithout some sort of special equipment.A portable cutting torch, for example,could take a slice out of one of the metal legs and topple the whole affairagain, or make hash out of the gearbox once more.But the vandal so far hadn'tused anything sophisticated.Horses, a rope, a steel bar-nothing complicated.What could a man without equipment do now to cause serious damage? The best hecould find involved putting the mill in neutral to stop pump action, thenpouring cement down the pump shaft.That would require only a small plasticfunnel, a sack of cement, some sand, and a bucket.Maybe a ten-dollarinvestment.And the solution would be permanent.The sun was higher now andChee broadened his search, covering the ground in widening circles.He foundPage 23 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlhoofprints and human tracks, but nothing interesting.Then he dropped into thearroyo and scouted it-first upstream and then down.Someone who wore moccasinshad used its sandy bottom often as a pathway.The moccasins were surprising.Navajos-even old people-almost never wore them, and as far as Chee knew, Hopisused them only when ceremonial occasions demanded.The path ended at the cottonwoods.As Chee had guessed, there was waterseepage here in wetter seasons and the moisture had produced a robust growthof tamarisk bushes, chamiso, Russian olives, and assorted arid country weeds.The path disappeared into this cover and Chee followed it.He found the originof the seep.Here the arroyo had cut its way past an outcropping of hard grayshale.Seeping water had eaten away at this formation, leaving a cavityperhaps four feet high, three times as wide, and as deep as Chee's visionwould go into the shaded darkness.The rock here was stained green withnow-dead algae and covered with a heavy growth of lichen.Chee squatted,studying the shale.The morning breeze moved through the brush around him,died away, and rose again.Chee's eye caught movement back in the shadowycavity.He saw a feather flutter and two tiny yellow eyes."Ah," Chee said.He moved forward on hands and knees.The eyes were painted ona stick-a tiny semi-face framed by two downy feathers.Behind this stick in anirregular row were others, scores of them-a little forest of feathered plumes.Chee touched nothing.He perched on hands and knees and studied the shrine andthe prayer plumes which decorated it [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl trzylatki.xlx.pl
.Jim Chee had ingested that fact with his mother's milk, and fromthe endless lessons his uncle taught him."All is order," Hosteen Nakai taughthim."Look for the pattern."Chee left half the coffee in the thermos and wrapped a towel around thebottle.That, with two more bologna sandwiches still in his sack, would servefor lunch.A covey of Gambel's quail, their long topknot feathers bobbing,paraded single file along the slope below the windmill, heading for the arroyoa hundred yards to the north.The quail would be after an early-morning drink.Far down the arroyo three cottonwoods stood-two alive and one a long-deadskeleton.They were the only such trees in miles and must mark a shallow watertable.Perhaps a spring.Without some source of water, the drought would forceall birds away from here.Chee found scuff marks on the earth, left by the vandal and by the Hopi whohad discovered the vandalism.They told him nothing useful.Then he examinedthe mill itself.This time the vandal had used some sort of lever to kink thelong connecting rod that tied the gear mechanism overhead to the pump cylinderin the well casing.It was an efficient means of destruction which left theforce of the turning blades and the pumping action to strip the gears.But thevandal was exhausting such opportunities.Now the footing bolts were securelybrazed into place, and the gearbox was secured.The custodians of the windmillcould easily prevent a repetition of this new outrage by using a two-inch pipeto provide a protective sleeve for the pump rod.Chee scrutinized the millthoughtfully, looking for weak points.He found nothing that could be damagedwithout some sort of special equipment.A portable cutting torch, for example,could take a slice out of one of the metal legs and topple the whole affairagain, or make hash out of the gearbox once more.But the vandal so far hadn'tused anything sophisticated.Horses, a rope, a steel bar-nothing complicated.What could a man without equipment do now to cause serious damage? The best hecould find involved putting the mill in neutral to stop pump action, thenpouring cement down the pump shaft.That would require only a small plasticfunnel, a sack of cement, some sand, and a bucket.Maybe a ten-dollarinvestment.And the solution would be permanent.The sun was higher now andChee broadened his search, covering the ground in widening circles.He foundPage 23 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlhoofprints and human tracks, but nothing interesting.Then he dropped into thearroyo and scouted it-first upstream and then down.Someone who wore moccasinshad used its sandy bottom often as a pathway.The moccasins were surprising.Navajos-even old people-almost never wore them, and as far as Chee knew, Hopisused them only when ceremonial occasions demanded.The path ended at the cottonwoods.As Chee had guessed, there was waterseepage here in wetter seasons and the moisture had produced a robust growthof tamarisk bushes, chamiso, Russian olives, and assorted arid country weeds.The path disappeared into this cover and Chee followed it.He found the originof the seep.Here the arroyo had cut its way past an outcropping of hard grayshale.Seeping water had eaten away at this formation, leaving a cavityperhaps four feet high, three times as wide, and as deep as Chee's visionwould go into the shaded darkness.The rock here was stained green withnow-dead algae and covered with a heavy growth of lichen.Chee squatted,studying the shale.The morning breeze moved through the brush around him,died away, and rose again.Chee's eye caught movement back in the shadowycavity.He saw a feather flutter and two tiny yellow eyes."Ah," Chee said.He moved forward on hands and knees.The eyes were painted ona stick-a tiny semi-face framed by two downy feathers.Behind this stick in anirregular row were others, scores of them-a little forest of feathered plumes.Chee touched nothing.He perched on hands and knees and studied the shrine andthe prayer plumes which decorated it [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]